Beating tradition
by DeannaReadX
Summary: "He wanted so badly to accept her soft, sad smiles and promises that things were going to be okay, that he wasn't beyond reach to anyone. He really fucking wanted to just leave his father and Voldemort and just run away from everything, to let go of the stress and the fear and the pain, and just leave. But he was Draco Malfoy and such beauties and luxuries didn't exist for him."


So basically, just a series of scenes depicting Draco and Hermione's relationship from second year upwards. I started this a little while ago and managed to finish it today in my spare time. Review, alert, favourite; just let me know what you think!

Thanks, as always.

Deexxx

* * *

"Oh yes, Draco's told me all about you... and your parents. Muggles, aren't they?" Lucius said pointedly, shooting a disgusted look towards two people at the back of the shop.

The woman was tall like her husband with deep green eyes and long, wavy brown hair. The man was tanned with honey brown eyes and dark black hair. He could see where she got her appearance from.

"Father" Draco said in a low, quiet voice, not wanting a scene there. He could handle the look on Hermione's face when he was the one insulting her, but when it was his father, he just couldn't seem to be able to let it happen.

"What Draco? Do you not voice your discomfort with her heritage frequently within the four walls of our home? What is the difference between there and here?" he asked, a sadistic smile on his face.

He watched as Hermione's eyes filled with angry tears that sparkled in the candle light; it was a heartwrenching sight and it made him hate himself for how he treated the pretty muggleborn.

"She and her filthy friends are not worth our breath father, let us be gone" he said, keeping his quiet tone and Lucius raised his bleach blonde, delicately shaped eyebrows, his smirk vanishing into a hard, emotionless look. Oh, he was going to get it later.

"You will learn when to shut your mouth boy... ahh! Arthur, long time no see. I hear you're working hard at the ministry with all those extra raids; I do hope they're paying you over time... but then again, maybe not by the looks of the state of these books. Like I've always said, a digrace to the name of wizard, espescially with the company you keep" Lucius said again, looking over at the Grangers with venomous eyes.

Weasley's fists clenched and Potter gritted his teeth, a vein pulsing in his jaw.

"Well, we have a very, very different idea as to what disgraces the name of wizard Malfoy" Arthur replied, his eyes narrowed, bright red hair standing on end.

"Clearly" Lucius said and at that moment, Draco wanted nothing more than to jinx his father into oblivion slowly and painfully. Of course, as twelve year old wizards go, he was no match for his ex-deatheater of a father.

"Father, come on, mother is waiting for us outside" Draco said again, trying not to yell at him in the middle of the street.

He watched as the familiar anger rose in his eyes and Draco felt bile rise in his stomach. That one had probably owned him another bruise to decorate his blackened ribs.

"I think you may be right Draco, move now" he demanded and, much to his own self hate, he found himself autimatically following his father out of the shop and down the street.

* * *

Hermione frowned, watching the interactions between Draco and his father in her minds eye as she relived the last two days. Draco had seemed... angry, and there was a hate in his ice blue eyes when he looked at him, like he was both terrified and loathing of Lucius.

Also, she could have sworn he'd tried to stop his father from taking the insults into dangerous grounds, almost like he was protecting her. It was an impossible thought but she'd never been able to figure him out; he was a complex young man. It was one of the reasons why she disliked him so much.

"You look deep in thought there Granger" a curious, familiarly well spoken voice sounded from above her and she looked sideways, grimacing when her eyes settled on a twelve year old Draco Malfoy leant against the tree, hands in his pockets as he observed her. It was strange, whenever they encountered each other alone, he would never regard her with any real hate in his eyes or posture; he was irritated by her presence constantly, that had always been obvious, but when there was no one else around, it was always curiosity.

"I'm always deep in thought Malfoy, it's what people with brains do" she retorted sarcastically, pulling herself up into a sitting position on the sand.

"Easy Granger, I was just wondering what a goody-two-shoes mudblood was doing out here so late at night past curfew; it's against the rules you know?" he replied and once again she wondered how such a foul and terrible word could slip so freely from such a young boy's mouth.

"I don't know Malfoy, what would a goody-two-shoes little Mudblood be doing down here past curfew? I on the other hand was finding it hard to sleep and found myself in need of a walk" she countered, not feeling at all pleased when he let out a quiet chuckle, his head slightly bowed, a small, impressed smirk gracing his features.

"You really are a piece of work aren't you Granger?" he breathed, still looking amused as his eyes flickered upwards to the full moon shining down, casting its silvery glow over the grounds of the castle, reflecting in the calm, black surface of the lake.

"Was that a rhetorical question?" she murmured moodily and he shrugged.

"I don't know, I just think it's incredibly annoying how such a disgusting creature can be so sharp and witty, especially at only twelve years old" he said, raising one eyebrow.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing" she said, unable to hide her smirk at her own comment; if there was anything she prided herself on, it was that she could always match Malfoy in the way of arguing and wit. It almost made up for the fact that her heart stung everytime the word Mudblood came out of his mouth.

"So what then Granger, is it that has inhabited your frustratingly brilliant mind that has actually pushed you to into break the rules for the first time in your life?" he asked, the same look of curiosity crossing his pale face again and she frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked suspiciously and he shrugged again, tilting his head sideways as his crystal blue eyes searched her face. She couldn't stop the blush creaping up her neck at the scrutiny she was under and just about managed to stop herself from hexing him and his strange antics.

"Well, as a young pureblooded aristocrat, I'm pretty good at reading people, it's what I've been brought up to do... and yet still after two years, I find it easy but also incredibly difficult to figure out what you're thinking" he said, his voice almost transfixing as his gaze stayed locked on her own.

"Sorry to break your tradition Malfoy, but do you really think me stupid enough to actually tell you, of all people, what I'm thinking about? I know you hate me but at least give me some credit" she sighed, immediately breaking the silent staring contest they'd been having, growing tired of looking at him. He confused her, and she didn't like being confused; it was a very rare occurance after all.

"Fair point... do _you_ hate _me_ though?" he asked, his voice suddenly slightly thicker and distant and she could feel him watching her again as she stared intently at the small ripples disturbing the water.

"The whole point of being a good person is that its physically impossible to hate anyone. If you're not evil, which I don't think you are Malfoy, then no, I do not hate you. I pity you" she said softly and intellegently, uncrossing her legs from underneath her and standing up.

"Try not to fall down the stairs and break your neck as your going back in Granger, wouldn't want blood all over the stone now would we?" he breathed as she walked away and for some unknown reason, the lack of real meaning or fight in the words made her sad for him.

She really did pity Draco Malfoy.

* * *

He woke up slowly with a painful ache in his skull as his brain pounded against the shell forcefully and his entire sinuses felt clogged and bruised.

It was only when he opened his eyes that he felt his proper senses return. Anger and embarassment filled him and he sat up quickly, wincing and groaning as his head gave a particularly significant thud and his vision became even more blurry.

"I didn't realise that I had such a mean right hook" a soft, wary voice said from beside him and he blinked a few times, his eyes widening as they settled on a guilty looking Granger sat sheepishly at his bedside with her hands in her lap. She was biting her lip again; always the bottom one, always furiously and always when she was thinking. Her brow was furrowed typically as well, as though she was both in the present, and in her mind. She was thinking and thinking and thinking in her brain, but was able to focus on what was going on around her as well.

"Don't you fucking dare look at me like that, bitch! You punched me! You actually fucking punched me! Wait till my father hears about th-"

"You deserved it!" the words burst from her lips suddenly, full of emotion and her eyes stinging with tears.

He knew that look, he'd seen it before when she'd been yelling at Weasley. She was trying to justify it in her head, trying to defend herself even though she knew she was just as in the wrong as her opponent for reacting to anything in the first place.

"I did not!"

"You were deliberately taunting me, taunting us! You just bully me all the time, you're a foul young man Draco and just this once you deserved to have a smack in the nose" she said fiercely, her voice angry and tired as she swallowed her tears.

"You didn't need to hit me!" he exclaimed in outrage and she sat back on her chair, jaw clenched, arms crossed over her breasts, hair frizzling crazily, face growing red and hot.

Bloody hell he didn't half love it when Hermione Granger got angry... he loved it for all the wrong reasons.

"Why are you even here Granger?" he snapped, trying to regain some sort of rational composure.

"Because I hit you and I just wanted to make sure that I hadn't hurt you too seriously" she said quietly and his eyes widened.

"You broke my fucking nose!" he yelled just as Madame Pomfrey came bustling into the room, glaring at him for being so loud.

"Mr Malfoy, watch your language! You are only thirteen, you should not be speaking like that!" the nurse scolded, gesturing for him to steady himself against the bed post.

"I don't see why you couldn't have fixed this sooner, I've been here all night" he grumbled moodily as she took out her wand.

"I've got much more serious patients to see to Mr Malfoy, all of which moan much less than you! Now be quiet and allow me to do my job" she replied forcefully, taking his hand away from his swollen nose and smirking sideways at Hermione once, winking sneakily.

"Episkey" she said clearly.

A loud, sickening click echoed around the room and Hermione cringed, but allowed herself a second's amusement at the yelp of pain that had escaped from Malfoy's vocal chords.

"Well, now I know I didn't kill you, I've got better things to be doing" Hermione said cheerfully, wiping the wetness from the corners of her eyes and jumping out of her chair, refusing to look at a coughing Draco's hunched back as she felt a small pang of guilt again.

_No!_ She told herself,_ he deserved it!_

* * *

It was her fifth year and she was helping out Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing when she saw it.

It was late and all the lights had been shut out, she was simply doing her last round before she was to clock off for bed, and the moonlight was streaming softly through the window, creating a peaceful feeling to the room of sick people.

She chaged her mind immediately though when she looked upwards for a second and saw a young man, around her age sitting up from his bed and reaching down to find his top on the bedside table.

She barely held back a gasp when she saw the nasty looking bruises and gashes up and down his back. It looked inhuman, the skin pale and ghostly against the limited light; almost translucent... and eerily beautiful. The body was toned, muscles moving when he jerked slightly through pain, a tight web of damaged skin doing nothing to protect his poor teenage body. But he was frighteningly thin, the vertabre in his spine quite visible.

She moved into the shadows so he wouldn't notice her and she watched from the bedside of a sleeping fourth year, transfixed yet again by the heartbreaking sight of a beaten Draco Malfoy.

What was most horrifying however was that the injuries had most definately been inflicted. This hadn't happened from a fall, they wouldn't have been so severe and the shapes of some of the cuts and the finger marks on his biceps suggested that someone had pinned him down and slashed with a knife.

She wanted to think desperately that they had been self inflicted, that would have been much easier to deal with than the alternative. But the alfictions were all at the wrong angles, random and angry; someone had been doing it for fun.

Suddenly, a painful flash of images flew through her mind, making her heart jump into her throat. Draco's hateful eyes fixed on his father in that shop three years ago, angry, but frightened. Small glances over the years that she'd subconsiously chosen to ignore, all of Draco shifting uncomfortably to the left or right when he was seated, always clutching his ribs or his arm, black eyes that had occured one too many times to be treated as accidental or Quidditch related.

His father had been beating him for as long as she'd known him, and she'd only just noticed.

She had to silently choke back tears, wanting nothing more than to let out a sound of anguish, anything to release some source of her disgust or sadness or sorrow for his suffering; but if he saw her now he'd probably obliviate her... possibly even kill her.

Slowly, she turned her back to him and slid down to the floor, curling up in a ball with her back against the bed she was using to stay hidden. She squeazed her eyes shut as though it would eradicate the image of his broken body from her memory; but it wasn't working and tears rolled hot, fast and sticky down her face.

She didn't know or understand why his pain was having such an affect on her, she'd never liked him and he'd always made her life a misery... but she could feel now, a slight flickering in her resolve for his brooding stares and cold silences whilst his friends chatted animatedly around him.

Draco Malfoy was a wooden toy soldier and he was being bashed and sculpted more and more into something he didn't really want to be every day.

She no longer pitied him, she wanted to help him.

* * *

It was too much, he simply couldn't take it anymore.

A sob crashed through his windpipe like a sharp explosion of knives, scratching piercing, dry and tired. It caused him to retch again and again, but nothing came out, his stomach jumped and jolted and ached against his sore ribs just like he was throwing up, but his body just wouldn't let him.

And he felt hot, restricted, trapped. He ripped his shirt over his head, closing his eyes tightly as the cold bathroom air hit his back, stinging the still healing wounds of the knives against his skin; but the sobs wouldn't stop, they wouldn't go away and before he knew it, he'd lost all control over his body, shaking, crying, heaving for breath that wouldn't stay, that wouldn't pull into his lungs properly.

Then a loud gasp sounded from behind him, it cut through the foggy mist of metaphorical lake and murky waters surrounding his subconsious, everything came crashing down and clarity seeped back into his vision. The sobbing seized immediately as his eyes raised upwards slowly, hooded and bloodshot to the reflection behind him.

Big, glassy brown eyes filled with tears, bushy brown glossy hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back, bottom lip trapped between her teeth and bleeding as usual, hands frozen at her sides.

"Oh my god" she breathed, eyes wider as they travelled the stretch of violately, slashed skin.

"GET OUT!" he yelled, turning around to face her and her face quivered, she winced; the action pierced his heart.

It didn't matter what it came down to, he always ended up hurting Hermione Granger. It was killing him.

"Draco, you need to have that seen t-"

"NO! No you do NOT get to tell me what I need you filthy little m-"

But the word caught in the back of his throat and for the very first time in six years, he couldn't say it to her; he couldn't physically call Hermione Granger a Mudblood.

She stared at him, shocked and full of turmoil; incredibly compassionate and good as ever she saw nothing but pain that she wanted to stop. She didn't look at him and see someone who had chipped at her confidence and bullied her for six years; she saw someone who had been hurt and who needed help and without a seconds thought she wanted to give it to him.

And for all the mercy of Merlin he wanted to take it. He wanted so badly to take the hand she was so obviously holding out to him, to accept her soft, sad smiles and promises that things were going to be okay, that he wasn't beyond reach to anyone. He really fucking wanted to just leave his father and Voldemort and just run away from everything, to let go of the stress and the fear and the pain, and just leave.

But he was Draco Malfoy and such beauties and luxuries didn't exist for him.

Freedom and forgiveness were not something money could buy.

* * *

She watched as he sat on the four hundred foot high stone bridge, his legs dangling over the edge, back arched forward, eyes closed softly against the sun. His black blazer had been torn and there was a cut above his left eyebrow that was bleeding pretty heavily; but apart from that, he seemed to have an extremely rare expression of peace on his remarkable features.

Of course, he was till as intense as ever, his forehead was creased in thought.

But now his shoulders were sort of loose, as though he no longer carried insatiable weights of emotion on his shoulders.

"You look deep in thought there Malfoy" she said with a small smile quirking one side of her mouth as she sat down next to him closely, their legs together, arms comfortably touching as they looked down at the ditch beneath them.

He let out a small, dry chuckle, remembering as she was the encounter down by the lake all those years ago and he nodded.

"I'm always deep in thought Granger, it's what people with brains do" he replied, playing along.

She grinned, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip and nudging him slightly making him roll his eyes.

"I'm going to testify at your hearing Malfoy" she announced casually, watching him out of the corner of his eye. He scoffed, rasing one eyebrow against the hot morning sun.

"I don't deserve it" he said quietly and distantly. She nodded, shrugging.

"Maybe not, but then I'm quite stupid when it comes to damsels in distress. I've already spoken to Kinglsey about it, he's just in there helping them carry the bodies in; he said you'll probably get off with a period of community service anyway, but I want to just let them know that you're not who they think you are" she said simply, as though it made no difference whether she forgave him or not.

She honestly had no idea how much it meant that she was doing this, that she was the only person willing to sit with him after such an ordeal that he'd had a part in, and talk normally to him, like he hadn't done a thing wrong.

"How do you do it?" he asked, the same curious tone he'd always regarded her with seeping back into his voice.

"I figure that I'd want someone to do this for me if I was in your situation. I'm not saying you're not a self-riteous, stuck up bastard-" she paused and he laughed, leaning his head back quickly and shaking it, not even bothering to disagree with her.

"I'm just saying that it's been just as difficult for you as it has been for the rest of us, and if the roles were reversed and I'd just watched both my parents die, I'd want someone to sit out in the sun with me and give me some hope" she said truthfully.

There was a comfortable, thoughtful silence between them for around twenty minutes before he drew in a sharp, deep breath and looked sideways at her.

"Thanks Granger, for everything" he said sincerely, holding her gaze as though no time had gone past whatsoever.

"S'okay, you've got the time to make it up to me now, haven't you?" she said in a low key voice, like she was just too tired to have too much conversation now.

He nodded once and respectfully before they both resumed their staring of the deep ditch beneath them made of crumbled concrete and building.

As the sun came out properly, she leaned her head sideways against the crook of his neck and closed her eyes.

All the time in the world.

* * *

She stood at the edge of the hall sipping a butterbeer and wondering, only slightly, where Ron was now. Probably off fucking some girl in Thailand or hiring it on the cheap in Japan.

Not that she really cared about that anymore, it was just that doing this all again had kind of brought back the memories of when she'd been a silly overemotional teenager in love with her best friend.

But she was very, very different now. Back then the ball had been about having fun and dancing, now it was the social event of the year, you made an appearance, you looked your best and then if you were single; which wasn't in the many, you left with a bottle of whatever you could find.

She'd chosen to wear a dark red silk dress that had to be the most gorgeous thing she'd ever owned. It was high chested and tied at the back of her neck, leaving her back bare before it joined again at her hips, covering over them gracefully, fitting her stomach perfectly and falling like a waterfall of material to the ground. She'd pulled her newly tamed hair up to pin to the back of her head, a few tiny curls escaping around the back of her head and framing her face at the front. She wore no heavy makeup save for the small layer of liquid liner she'd used to highlight her brown eyes.

All in all, she felt decent enough to fit in at the party, presentable enough for people to realise how much she really had changed since school and happy enough for her not to cower away from everyone and stick strictly to Harry and Ginny.

But the party was getting later and people were beggining to get drunk and laugh more, she could feel herself drawing away from her old school friends as her mouth was hurting from all the fake smiling she'd been doing.

"Cheer up Granger, it might never happen" a voice said from beside her and she simply turned her neck to look at him unenthusiastically.

"I thought I heard Astoria giggling like a pig on a potion earlier" she retorted and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"You know I missed you Granger, you always did quip the most delightful insults" he grinned and she decided, most probably due to the alcohol fogging her brain, that he was dashingly handsome when he wasn't scowling at her.

But then she guessed he'd probably had quite a bit to drink as well, which had obviously relaxed him enough to actually smile for once.

"I aim to please" she shrugged, a small smirk gracing her mouth that had been painted in a flawless red colour matching her dress and bringing out the creamy colour of her skin. He nodded, mirth still sparkling in his crystal blue eyes.

"You look stunning by the way Granger, if it wasn't already obvious" he remarked and a small blush appeared in her cheeks.

She snorted, raising her delicately shaped eyebrows, her soft brown eyes returning to watching people on the dancefloor or at their tables drinking wine.

"Bullshit Malfoy, you hate me" she said and he shrugged.

"I don't hate you Granger, I dislike you because you're a self-riteous Gryffindor know-it-all. And as for the bullshit, it's completely true, despite the fact that I don't like you, I would be in a long queue of men who would like to rip that pretty dress off and have their wicked way with you" he said with a cocky smirk and she blushed scarlet, choosing to take another swig of butterbeer, feeling the room getting ten times hotter all of a sudden.

She looked around, noticing more than a few men glaring at Malfoy for talking to her as their dates tried and failed to distract them from her face.

"Speaking of ripping dresses off, where is dear Astoria at the moment?" she asked and he shrugged again, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Otherwise engaged" he answered, gesturing to the far side of the hall where Hermione could see Astoria Greengrass practically shagging Seamus Finnigan.

"Did I miss something?" she asked in confusion and he simply quirked one side of his mouth, his eyes emotionless.

"Not really. If you read the Prophet you would know that she's a money grabbing, cheating bitch and we haven't been together in over five months now" he said with a loose smile, downing half of the three litre whiskey bottle he seemed to have swiped from somewhere.

"Say Granger, fancy coming for a walk with me? I fucking hate this room" he said, looking around distastefully.

She drew in a deep, fed up breath and sighed.

"Why the fuck not" she said, following him through the crowd, through some curtains and out onto a huge stone balcony overlooking the entire Hogwarts grounds.

She relaxed as the night air cooled her face and she closed her eyes, leaning against the stone with no regard for the height of it; most silly bimbos back in the ballroom would have sqealed and ran away from it.

"What about Weasley?" he asked and she smiled softly, eyes still closed so that he could truly look at her properly for the first time.

Her skin was smooth, her facial structure heartstoppingly elegant. A light brown dusting of freckles could be seen across her cheeks and nose and her lips were full and shiny, her hair wavy, the curls itching to be grabbed at and caressed.

These were all foreign urges to Draco, he wasn't prejudiced anymore but it was still Granger and he hadn't been lying when he said he didn't particularly like her insessant need to be right... but she was freaking gorgeous almost all the time and he was still a man with testosterone flowing through his veins.

"Ronald is also otherwise engaged" she replied peacefully and he suspected she had long since gotten over her childish crush on the boxy Weasley twat.

Besides, the ginger tumour had never deserved a woman like Hermione Granger anyway. He really doubted many men did, she was one hell of a girl if anything.

"Ahh I see, 'Ronald' couldn't keep his chode in his trousers" he said and she opened her eyes, bowing her head and giggling slightly, her eyes scrunching up slightly, her mouth opening a little to reveal bright white teeth and her bare back shaking with laughter.

"You really do hate him don't you?" she chuckled and he nodded.

"I don't even know why, I don't give a shit about his blood status anymore than I give a shit about yours but he just irritates me, he's just... dumb" he said, shrugging.

She shivered suddenly and he realised that, although he wasn't complaining that she had flesh on show, she was probably quite cold by now.

Whether he still believed in blood status or not, he was still a Malfoy and Malfoy's are gentlemen. So of course, he took his blazer off and hung it around her shoulders, feeling his chest contract when she smiled at him in thanks.

"So you've really given up the whole 'mudblood' bullshit?" she asked and he winced, not being able to stop himself from glaring at the scar on her right arm reading that very word.

"You know I did Granger, you were there remember; after the battle and at my hearing, you practically shouted it at the jury"

He hated it, he hated himself for being such a coward. And it was this that made him blurt out such a random thing.

"I'm sorry" he said sincerely, his voice a little quiet and weak as he hung his head, looking down at the ground to avert his eyes from the mark.

Suddenly, he felt hands on either side of his face as his head was lifted so he was looking at her, her face in rather close proximity.

"I forgave you for everything the moment you started crying whilst she was torturing me. Stop blaming youself for what she did to me. I don't condone the way you treated me for all those years Draco but I'll never hate you again, simply because... you care.

That's what set you apart from the other deatheaters and thats what makes me trust you now... you care" she said softly and before he could even process what she'd said, she leaned forward ever so slightly and pressed her lips against his.

"You don't like me, I don't like you... but we don't know each other Granger, not properly. Thank you" he breathed when the kiss broke but she remained still, lips still hovering ever so slightly over his, a strange tingling in them building up a pool of heat in the pit of her stomach, stretching her chest as though her entire body was screaming at her to kiss him again.

But this time, he took the lead as he pushed her against the stone, breathing in deeply through his nose as if something between them that had been festering for years had lifted into electric attraction and for the first time, they were feeling their release.

There weren't any words to describe what it was like to kiss Hermione Granger. Her lips were soft and warm and, god forgive him, a bloody drug.

The gasp of how good it felt to have his lean body pressed against her trapping her against stone, forced her lips open and before she could protest or let logic get the better of her, his tongue had slid inside and any chance of her pushing him away was lost as it brushed blissfully against her own.

His hands were bunching in the back of her hair, cradling the back of her head as his body crushed her, his hands pulling her mouth harder down on his in an attempt to pull her impossibly closer.

"Ehhem" a cough came from behind them and Hermione made a sound of alarm, breaking off the kiss and making an attempt to wriggle out of Draco's grasp.

"I was just going to tell you that we're going now" Harry said, one eyebrow raised, a mischevous smirk pulling up one side of his mouth.

"Right, sure I'll... I'll see you sometime next week" Hermione said, clearing her throat, her face flushing red with embarrassment.

"Oh, and Malfoy"

"Yes Potter?"

"You better be at work on time tomorrow or you can go straight to Kinglsey and explain to him in great deal what... or rather, whom, was responsible for your tardiness" Harry called over his back in a teasing voice as he turned to leave, leaving Hermione bowing her head, trying her hardest not to laugh.

"You're kidding me" Draco groaned, running a hand through his hair and Hermione shook her head.

"Oh my god I am never going to be able to look at him again" she said, her voice thick with repressed giggles.

"He'll get over it" Draco breathed, putting a hand in the pocket of his trousers and looking at her, waiting for her reaction.

"I think we're a little drunk..." she said awkwardly, still blushing and he shrugged.

"Want to go back to my place?"

"Definately"

Draco was very late for work the next morning, but Harry said nothing on the matter. Hermione on the other hand, couldn't have a proper conversation with her best friend for over a month without dying of embarassment.

Of course, that incident didn't effect Hermione and Draco's relationship and although they spent the next few years at each other's throats (particularly during the most hormonal stage of Hermione's pregnancy) they still ended up married with two children.

And Draco planned on using all the time he had left over the next couple of centuries making up seven years of bullying with fantastic, if slightly awkward parenting skills, a lot of random sex and a successful, if slightly disfuntional marriage.

Pretty decent forever really, if you asked him.


End file.
